Right Here
by tir-synni
Summary: Sequel to 'Scars.'  Edward can't let go of the past.  Ling can't let go of him.  LingEd


Title: Right Here  
Pairing: Ling/Ed  
Warnings: Manga spoilers, light angst  
A/N: Blatantly based off of Staind's "Right Here Waiting"  
Rating: PG  
Summary: Edward can't let go of the past. Ling can't let go of him.

Right Here

After countless sacrifices and hardships, the Emperor of Xing had finally recognized Yao Ling's boundless potential and declared Ling his heir. Several weeks later, Ling had claimed the crown and pronounced himself Emperor. Since then, the young Emperor had strengthened relations with the allied country Amestris as well as bolstered relations within Xing itself. Already Ling was smashing the doubts of his father's advisors and inspiring the awe of the people. Ling knew that this was just the beginning. He expected his name, his sovereignty, to go down in legends, perhaps even in his lifetime. He _knew_ his reign as Emperor would be great.

And yet again he found himself walking away from what he wanted most. Again. And why? Because of _one stupid mistake!_

Over and over again, Ling found himself walking away from Edward Elric. Last time he had walked away from that same dormroom door, he was positive Edward had been drinking. In all their time together, he had rarely seen the young blond drink, nonetheless enough to get drunk. However, the slur had been unmistakable, even if the demands had been loud and clear. He wanted to go to him, to try and explain, to _help_, but the alchemist had fused the window shut beyond the abilities of even his clever hands, and he was afraid he would hurt Edward if he forced the door open. So instead he walked away, listening to a bottle shatter behind him and his beloved's muffled sobs.

There had been no alcohol this time. Edward had not been blocking the door. Ling had not checked the window. And he was still going back to the embassy empty-handed.

Why?

Ling paused in the hallway, breathing evenly through his nose. He knew what awaited him at the embassy: Fuhrer Mustang's bland look and Ran Fan's pitying eyes. He also knew what awaited him behind him: a beautiful, proud, feisty blond with heartbreaking eyes. Once upon a time, he had fought to win Edward's attention. Now he was walking away.

No.

He would not lose him.

Not for one foolish mistake.

Whirling on his heel, Ling stalked back to Edward's door. Within seconds, the door was unlocked, and Ling strode carelessly into the Spartan room. Edward was walking out of the pathetic excuse of a kitchen, a coffee mug in his automail hand. Ling frowned to himself. He hadn't realized the blond still had his automail limbs.

Edward glanced up from stirring his coffee to meet Ling's gaze. Those beautiful eyes widened in shock, and Ling's frown deepened as the blond dropped the mug. It shattered at his feet, steaming liquid splashing Edward's boots. Edward didn't seem to notice, gaping at Ling. The Emperor tried a charming smile. The hardening in Edward's lovely eyes showed that he failed.

"Get out," Edward growled. Ling barely hid a flinch as the blond clapped his hands. Ling tensed, but Edward only kneeled and touched the white shards. With a small flash, the mug was whole and filled with a dirty liquid. Ling could see bits of carpet fuzz floating.

"No," Ling replied pleasantly, stepping forward. Something ached within him when Edward immediately stepped back. "I think I've walked away enough, thank you."

Edward's face twisted in a snarl, and Ling took a moment to enjoy the blond's expressiveness. _This_ is what he had denied himself, what his mistakes had cost him . . . what Edward's stubbornness had cost him.

He didn't want to walk away again.

"I know I've been mistaken," Ling commented evenly, "but I've acknowledge those mistakes. I learned from those mistakes."

Edward turned away from him, placing the coffee mug on the small table in the middle of the room. Taking a deliberate step forward, Ling forced Edward's gaze back on him.

"I've got some imperfections," Ling allowed, "but how can you collect them all and throw them in my face?"

Edward's eyes flashed, but Ling could see his flesh hand shaking. Ling took another step forward. Edward hastily took another step back.

"How dare you—" Edward snapped.

"I hope you're not intending to be so condescending," Ling interrupted smoothly. Edward's mouth clicked shut, and Ling nodded grimly. "I know I've made a mistake. I admit it. It was a terrible mistake, on for which I've paid over and over again. Surely you don't mean to keep throwing it in my face."

Edward flinched, his hands grasping behind him as if searching for something with which to defend himself. Ling studied him. His beloved was too pale. "I don't—"

"I've given a lot for you." Ling continued walking forward until he had backed Edward into the cabinet. Edward tightly gripped the edge, golden eyes wild. Ling didn't relent. "But you're so independent that you have probably never noticed. You just refuse to bend." He smiled bitterly at the blond, gaining no satisfaction from the hurt on Edward's face. "So I keep bending till I break."

Edward swallowed convulsively. His slender body trembled, and Ling wanted nothing more than to smile brightly and distract him from his fear. Instead, he held out his hands, remembering attempts at taming wild animals when he was a child in Xing. Earlier, Edward could have transfigured a weapon just as easily as he had fixed the mug. It would take incredibly little to make Edward strike out . . . or he could allow Ling to soothe him and touch him. Perhaps he would allow Ling to take him home.

"I've made a commitment," Ling continued flatly. "I'm wiling to bleed for you." Ling licked his lips, the next words feeling thick and heavy in his mouth. "I needed fulfillment. I thought that I found it in the Sin Greed, in the power he represented. I was wrong." He met Edward's eyes, seeing the pain there and knowing it was reflected in his own eyes. But he also saw more than that.

He saw hope.

"I found what I need," Ling whispered, "in you."

Edward frantically shook his head, but Ling clung to the faint hope in those catlike eyes. Ling breathed in deeply. Not even during his coronation did he feel this tense. Then he had been confident, secure.

Then he had nothing to lose.

He caught Edward's eyes again. "Why can't you just forgive me?" he asked quietly. Edward trembled but didn't respond. Ling didn't wait for him to attempt it. "I don't want to relive all the mistakes I've made along the way."

Edward finally found his voice. "Ling, don't--" He fell silent at Ling's next move.

Ling fell to his knees.

Ling, the Emperor of Xing, fell to his knees before Edward. Edward froze, wide-eyed with shock. Ling gently reached upwards and clasped the blond's lax hands.

"You always find a way to keep me right here waiting," Ling said quietly. "You always find the words to say to keep me right here waiting. And if you chose to walk away I'd still be right here waiting for you."

Edward shook his head in denial, but the move was minute, and those wide golden eyes never looked away from Ling. Ling smiled gently at him and squeezed his hands. "I always find a way to keep you right here waiting, too," he said softly. "I always find the words to say to keep you right here waiting." He brought the hands to his lips, feeling and tasting the contrast between them.

A fierce shudder shook the small blond's body. "You're a bastard," Edward whispered.

Ling smiled and kissed Edward's hands again. "Yes," he admitted freely. "And your bastard is still here right here waiting for you."

He opened his arms. Edward didn't exactly fall into them.

But he fell to his knees, too. 


End file.
